


Distrust

by drfrankensara



Category: Falling Skies
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 02:10:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1964976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drfrankensara/pseuds/drfrankensara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I definitely meant for this to be fluffy but it took a u-turn into angst. Oops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distrust

It had been a few hours since the last remains of the 2nd Mass had trickled into the sanctuary, all of them led by the stalwart, the true, Hal Mason. Of course, Pope and his new paramour Sara had denied such leadership, but Lourdes knew it to be true. No one else could captain the rabble aside from Tom and he'd left his young lieutenant in charge. Lourdes could only come to the conclusion that he'd done his father proud which he was wont to do on every occasion he got. When the horde had come stumbling in, dirty and exhausted from travel and fighting, Hal had directed them naturally. To barracks, to abandon weapons, to deliver supplies. He operated them like a well-oiled machine.

Lourdes only got a quick hug in before he'd dispersed to take care of the rest. Even his siblings would have to wait, though she knew he'd go to them before ever coming to her.

He found her in her lab, going through supplies. Not that she really needed to. She'd been through their stores hundreds of times by now but even at the sanctuary there wasn't much for her to do. It was safe but she rarely felt fully occupied. She constantly felt like a feral cat, pacing a space that she'd never truly feel comfortable in. It wasn't necessarily that sanctuary didn't live up to it's name--on the contrary, Lourdes trusted Lexi implicitly--but rather that it was her own skin. It didn't fit right, stretched over bones that were knit together improperly. It was as if she lived with the constant ghostly memory of all those worms under her skin. They were phantoms, yes, but the feeling never went away.

The fact was, no one distrusted Lourdes like she distrusted herself.

She sat on the floor in front of a refrigerator, bottles of medicine scattered between her legs. She ticked them off one by one as she loaded them onto the shelves. It was meaningless and mindless work, but it was better than nothing.

A knock at the door. She looked up to find Hal, still weatherworn and disheveled, peeking through the glass. With a brief nod, he slipped into the room, glancing curiously at the work between her knees. "I got your message."

"I can see that." She replied, glancing down at the bottles and continuing her work, afraid she might lose count.

"Taking stock?"

"Looks like it." Lourdes found most of her conversations carefully guarded lately. She couldn't help it. Everything about her felt stiff and out of practice. It was hard to smile and really mean it.

"And what number are you on now?" Hal asked, crouching down next to her. Lourdes paused, glaring down at the bottles and trying to remember what the count was. She closed her eyes. Heaved a sigh. Tallied with whispers on her lips. Nope. It was gone.

"Damn it."

Hal chuckled, picking up a bottle and staring through the clear liquid within. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay. I've already done inventory of these three times since we've been here. Number always comes out the same." Lourdes replied with a resigned sigh, beginning to pile the bottles back into the refrigerated cabinet.

"Three times? Jesus, Lourdes, are you really that starved for something to do?" His smile was playful. It was unsettling. It had been months since anyone had looked at her that way. To anyone else all she saw was a carefully constructed uncertainty.

Her responding smile was uneasy. She couldn't help avoiding his probing eyes. "Yes. And no. I don't know. Aside from managing the sanctuary, I don't really have time to do much else." That wasn't totally true. Lourdes had lots of free time, just no one to spend it with. The only person who allowed her peaceful conversation was Lexi and even then she knew Lexi felt suffocated by how closely Lourdes clung to her.

"Well, you don't have to do it alone anymore." His tone was so genuine, for a brief second Lourdes almost believed it to be true.

"I've always done it alone."

It took several moments of silence before Lourdes realized she'd said it out loud. The medicine bottles were completely loaded and she found herself staring determinedly at the closed cabinet door. She hoped, in the back of her mind, that if she ignored him long enough he'd go away. But he didn't. Instead she felt his steady brown eyes at her back, insistently willing her to turn around.

Finally she did, eyes trained at the floor.

"I'm surprised you came. I'm surprised anyone did."

"Anne trusts you--"

"Does she?" Her eyes snapped to his, a challenge. He didn't reply, merely gazed at her with honesty and softness. 

"Lexi is the one that asked me to make the broadcast. She could have asked Maggie, but she asked me. Lexi is the only one that trusts me. The only one that cares about me." Her tone was resigned. It echoed dull and dead in the room, her voice bouncing off of metal and glass. 

Hal settled in next to her, close, his breath at her ear. She continued to stare determinedly at the floor, unwilling to compromise, unwilling to see the pity and revulsion on his face. She couldn't handle that expression in another person, especially not Hal. "That's not true." 

"No?" 

"Lourdes, you're the most caring person I know. But the only person you don't care about is yourself." 

Lourdes looked up, shocked. She wanted to feel anger but when she stared into his eyes all she saw was concern. It brought tears to her lids and a tremble to her lips. "That's not true." 

"It is." 

"I..." 

"You think you deserve to be alone. Well let me tell you something, Lourdes, what happened was not your fault and you have got to stop blaming yourself for what they did to you. We won't exile you. You don't have to be afraid of us. And you don't have to be afraid of yourself." 

Before Lourdes could stop them the tears were overflowing, down her cheeks and onto her hands clenched over her knees. She looked back down to the floor, memorizing the pattern of lines in her hands, delicate but strong. They were hands that the younger version of herself would not recognize. 

The sobs came next. They wracked up her spine and back down and suddenly she was engulfed in a pair of strong arms. He smelled like woods and gunpowder and sweat. Lourdes thought she'd never smelled something so comforting. She clutched at his jacket and buried her face in his shoulder, letting the grief overtake her. Dusty fingers smoothed down her hair as he pulled back to wipe tears from her cheeks. When she looked into his eyes she knew he understood what she felt. No one felt more betrayed by her actions than she did herself. She could not atone for the evil she'd become. But he knew firsthand that person was not the one who sat before him now. That person didn't truly exist. 

"I trust you. I care about you." He was insistent, staring determinedly into her eyes as if it was the most important thing in the world. That she know she was needed. That she was cared for. 

She clutched at his hands, palms on either side of her face, and she nodded. The tears began to slow and finally it seemed like she could feel the feral cat within her settling, curling into a much needed nap. 

Their foreheads fell together, silent and settled on the floor of the lab. For hours they meditated into darkness, finding peace in merely sharing each other's breath. 


End file.
